


Abituarsi

by hedgehodgy



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: based around homecoming, i don't know how to tag oops, no relationships - Freeform, powers revealed, young peter parker - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11528145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehodgy/pseuds/hedgehodgy
Summary: In which a young Peter Parker has to reveal to his genius-playboy-billionaire-philanthropist guardian that a trip to Oscorp accidentally resulted in him gaining freaky spider-powers, and conversation ensues. WARNING: Bad language (Tony was upset lmao). Also posted on fanfiction. net.





	Abituarsi

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is my first fic on here, so I'm still figuring out the ropes. Heads up.
> 
> So, I watched Spider-Man: Homecoming and found myself wanting to see more Tony/Peter father/son fluff. This happened. It's short, quick, and not my best piece of writing (Tony why are you so hard to write?). However I managed to finish it, so here it is.
> 
> If anyone wants to chat about Spider-Man: Homecoming, feel free to find me on tumblr at: hedgehodgy. It was an amazing movie and I, personally, was dying all throughout it.
> 
> Also, 'Abituarsi' apparently means 'to adapt oneself' or 'to become accustomed' in Italian. I thought the suggestion was really cool so thank you starkquill trash (izzybelw)!! I appreciate it a lot :D

Peter nibbled at the skin around his nails, anxiously pacing the length of the room as he waited for death to walk through the door and greet him. Literally.

He regretted everything. He didn't know why he was doing this. Unfortunately, it was already too late to tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to stop Tony from making his way to his room, to tell him that Peter didn't need him anymore. No, that would just make the billionaire all the more curious, and lead him to his room even faster. And Tony's curiosity was the last thing that Peter needed...yet it was exactly what he was going to get, the moment Tony arrived. Biting back a groan, Peter faced the door and sucked in a deep breath, puffing out his chest with false bravado.

Every instinct - the ones he was born with and the ones he'd gained just four weeks ago - screamed at him to run now before the storm arrived. He wanted to hit himself over the head repeatedly for ever even considering this. This! It was only going to end in a disaster; with Tony shouting, Peter shouting back, and then a big freak-out of some sort. Peter didn't know exactly, which was the worst part. He only had a very vague idea as to how Tony was going to...react to...this, and the lack of forewarning made him feel ill. Peter liked to be spontaneous, but this crossed the line.

Peter groaned out loud now, pausing and hopping restlessly on the spot as he shook his hands as though he could physically bat away his nerves. You've got this, he told himself. I mean, you have to have got this. Because Tony's on his way. Because you said you wanted to speak to him. So here he comes. On his way. To speak to you.

There had to be some way for him to get out of it. Some way to...to trick Tony into thinking Peter wanted something else? He could do anything, set up a prank or pretend he was upset about something. Both options would succeed in throwing Tony off his case and making him think nothing serious was going on. Peter would get away with it, his secret would be safe for the immediate future...everything would be okay...

No, you've got to tell him, an annoyingly wise voice in Peter's head said. You've got to. No questions about it. It's bad enough it's been secret for four weeks.

Peter's hands curled into his hair, tugging at it in frustration as he felt torn between the two options - both as bad as one another. In an hour, he'd be nursing a guilty conscience or a...something Tony, depending on his reaction. Peter wanted neither. Maybe if he...?

Something at the back of Peter's neck tingled, and he instinctively turned his head towards the door - just in time to hear someone knock on it before it opened. Tony Stark to stepped into the room, apparently coming from the workshop. Oil smeared the dark grey Led Zeppelin shirt he wore. A small, confident smile was flashed at Peter. Peter already felt bad for what he was about to tell him, knowing for certain that that smile would be wiped away with what he was about to tell him.

"Hey, Pete," the billionaire greeted lightly, closing the door behind him.

Peter's breath hitched, suddenly feeling quite trapped with his one reliable exit cut off. He could bail out of the window, he supposed, if he really wanted to, but that - that wouldn't help one bit. It would make things a lot worse, in fact. This was it. Now or never. Peter had lost his opportunity to plan any alternative outcomes. Good. Get it over with, the sensible voice in his head said.

"Something wrong?" Tony asked when Peter said nothing to him. He stepped closer, hands rubbing on the side of his pants to rid them of grease. "F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you wanted to chat, right? Don't tell me I left my mac and cheese for nothing,"

He sounded quite happy, in a way. Relaxed (since when did Tony leisurely eat mac and cheese whilst he was working? Usually he'd forgo food for stupid lengths of time in favour of working working working working). Peter knew how rare it could be to find Tony in such light moods. He liked to think that it had become less rare with him being around (he knew he had a habit of talking and talking and talking until Tony had to crack a smile and the odd rude joke), and now Peter was going to go and make it worse again. Guilt pooled in his belly.

"Right," Peter said, clearing his throat when his voice was shaky. "Me. I wanted to chat. With you. Right,"

Tony's eyebrow quirked, "Uh-huh...well? What is it?"

"What is it?! Now, that's a good question - 'what is it?'. Ha, yeah, good question, Tony," Peter laughed nervously and squeezed the back of his neck, tight, inwardly cursing. God, he was such a fool. He sounded so idiotic considering he was meant to have the IQ of a college student and was living with one of the greatest minds in the whole world! Sometimes it was a wonder Tony even kept him around! One day soon he'd be shipped away for sure - maybe after he told Tony his secret, maybe! Yeah, if it were to happen any time, it would be now. In a few minutes. The mere thought made Peter's eyes burn and his throat feel closed-over. Stop, stop thinking about that now. Really bad timing.

"Oh, god, okay," Tony groaned all of a sudden, moving to sit on the end of Peter's oversized bed. Peter tensed in alarm, "Right - it's aright, Pete. We can handle this. I mean, I wasn't expecting to have the talk with a ten-year-old, but whatever-,"

"What? No!" Peter spluttered before he could help himself. 'The talk' was adult-lingo for something which Peter was pretty sure sure that he didn't wanted to hear yet. He knew that he was probably well beyond the educational level of knowing what it meant but it was times like these which made him just...not want to know yet. Not yet. However, he did wonder why Tony thought now was the time for it...but that was something else to ponder about. Not now. "T-Tony, it's something...else,"

The dread on Tony's face vanished, replaced with vague concern and curiosity. There; the curiosity. No going back now. He sat straighter and Peter internally sighed. Here it comes. My doom.

"Something else?" echoed Tony. "Huh. Define that, kiddo. Did you discover porn? I thought I'd turned on all of those 'parental locks'-,"

"You did, boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said. Tony let out a huff of relief.

"No, why, what's...?" Peter was about to investigate, but decided against of it. Not the time! Distractions! He shook his head and sighed, looking down at the floor where his sock-clad feet shifted. He felt sick and sweaty and so nervous. He glanced between the floor and Tony's face, noting the billionaire's expression change each time. "R-Right, yeah...um, okay. Sure. S-Something else...I asked if you'd come chat...about something else. You don't mind, Tony, do you?"

"'Course not," Tony seemed to hold back an eye-roll. "I wouldn't be here otherwise - mac and cheese, like I said. Now spit it out, kiddo, c'mon. Is it something interesting or dangerous?"

The second option seemed to be somewhat of a joke, though a slither of Tony sounded serious. He looked a little serious too, gazing intently at Peter.

Right...right...right...he thought to himself repeatedly. "Um...a bit of both?" he answered, fidgeting with the end of his t-shirt.

If Tony was taken aback by the answer, he didn't show it. He asked, "Both, huh? More of one or the other?"

"I-I don't know...m-maybe? It's also probably kinda...sorta...very...l-life c-c-changing?"

For a few moments, Peter was scared. Well, more scared than he was earlier. Tony just stared at him, and stared, and stared. Peter fretted, wondering what Tony would do and say now? He didn't react for many seconds, and horrifyingly Peter felt his eyes well with tears. He was about to stutter some more about something likely nonsensical when Tony was, all of a sudden, kneeling in front of him.

"Life-changing, huh? Okay, kiddo, we can work with that. I'm Iron Man," Tony gave one of his confident grins, though the light expression and tone were both off. Fake. The kind of expression he gave to the press when they questioned his mental and emotional well-being after all that he'd been through. It didn't make Peter feel much better at all. "Give it to me straight and we'll figure it out, huh? No need to get upset about it,"

He nudged Peter's cheek with a crooked index finger. The movement caused a single tear to spill over from his eye on to his flushed skin, which was caught and swiped away easily by the billionaire. "S-Sorry," gasped Peter, wiping his other eye before tears could fall from that one too. He knew how much Tony hated him crying - not in a nasty 'stop-being-stupid' way, he didn't think, but in more of a 'I-don't-know-what-to-do' way, which made Tony 'I-always-know-what-to-do' Stark uncomfortable. Peter avoided crying all he could in front of Tony for that reason, but sometimes it just...happened. He sniffed, "I-I don't meant to be...I-I-I didn't w-want-,"

Peter paused, closing his eyes, and inhaling a deep breath to try and calm himself. Tony said nothing, silent whilst he gathered his thoughts. Peter scrambled internally to sort his emotions and push away the anxiety clawing at his chest. When his eyes reopened, Peter felt a little better. Just a little. And also more confident, which was always good (and necessary when in Tony's presence). Tony stared at him with more open worry now, a hand having fallen on to Peter's shoulder at some point. The hand squeezed once. "Kiddo?" he prompted.

Peter took one more deep breath. "I've got something life-changing to tell you,"

He sounded sure of himself now. He didn't feel that way, but it was enough for Peter. Here it goes, he thought. He felt the same kind of anticipation that you felt when you were going on a rollercoaster and were about to plunge over the very first, steep rise.

"Tell me," Tony pressed in a surprisingly gentle tone which Peter knew - almost smugly - was reserved for only him. In any other circumstance, Peter relished being addressed in that tone. Now, however. it made him feel more determined than anything. Get it over with. Here it goes.

"So...you know when I went on the school trip to Oscorp? Last month?" Peter decided it would be best to begin with. Tony's expression instantly darkened, no doubt as he imagined all of the possible directions that this conversation could go in.

"Yes," he said stonily. "I remember. What about it?"

"Well, it was good, like I told you it was when I got back, but...something else happened whilst I was there which I didn't tell you about and I've been keeping a secret since,"

Another eyebrow quirk came from Tony. "Peter..." his voice held both warning and concern. Growing concern, it seemed, as the line between his brow grew larger. "What. Happened?"

"I, um..." Peter began to stumble now, wringing his hands in front of him. "I kinda got separated from our school group. T-There were just a lot of people and the teachers made everyone hold hands but I-I don't have any friends, so I was holding on to no one and...well...I tried to find them again, I promise,"

"Uh-huh..." Tony said slowly, gripping Peter's shoulder a little tighter. The action, though it was painless, seemed to squeeze more tears from Peter's eyes. They welled threateningly, almost blurring his vision. "You know, I would be a lot less apprehensive right now about you wandering an Oscorp building unsurpervised if you hadn't started like you had. What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

Peter could see Tony fighting not to tug Peter closer so he could be examined everywhere for traces of injury. Peter swallowed, hand returning to the mark on the back of his neck, the one blemish that Tony would be likely to find. "N-No one hurt me," he reassured his caregiver before he could turn frantic. "And it was s-stupid, how I got lost. I kinda...sorta...eventually found myself in a room filled with spiders,"

Peter let out a breath as he revealed that fact. Phase one - complete, he thought in one of those typical 90's video-game commentator's voice. Now for the rest of the phases; each one more difficult than the last. He paused to see Tony's reaction, and found that he looked disgusted.

"Spiders? Ew," he said with a slight shudder. Somehow, he didn't seem as concerned now that Peter had confirmed someone hadn't tried to hurt him. "So...what's the big deal about that? Did you bring one of the spiders back here with you? Has it infested the Tower - have they gotten into the computer databases? Stealing Stark Industries information to pass on to Oscorp like in one of those terrible spy movies you make me watch? If so, I hope you have a good reason for keeping it quiet, young man-,"

"No," interrupted Peter quietly. "That's not it, Tony,"

Tony drooped. His concern visibly returned to him. "Then what is it?" he asked impatiently.

"One of the spiders bit me," Phase two - complete. "Here," Peter motioned to the hand rubbing the back of his own neck. As expected, Tony carefully turned him around, and moved his hand aside to examine the residue mark. He hissed slightly as he looked at it before spinning Peter around once more.

"That looks like it had to have been bad," he said. Now, his entire visage was painted with worry. And a little anger. "What happened then? Did it make you ill? Why did you never tell me, Peter-?"

"I-I had a fever, remember?" Peter interrupted again, and he internally marvelled at how he was getting away with cutting across Tony Stark so many times in one conversation. Even if doing so made his bottom lip tremble. "When I got back from the trip, I felt a little ill. It wasn't too bad though. I just felt dizzy and told myself that if it got worse I'd tell you what had happened and you'd make it all better. B-But it got better by itself so I figured...e-everything was fine,"

Tony frowned deeply at that, and both hands held on to Peter's shoulders now. His grip at this point would have been uncomfortable, however Peter hadn't felt pain the same way he once had before the spider bite. "You were bitten by a spider and didn't tell me? Petey, c'mon, you're meant to be an intelligent kid-,"

"I am!" Peter exclaimed. He stopped and flushed a moment later, "I-I mean, not to be egotistical like you, but I'm not stupid, Tony-,"

"Oh yeah? Then why'd you keep this from me? Why are you only just telling me, huh?"

Oh no, Tony was starting to sound a little angry now. Thankfully it wasn't a 'I'm-going-to-hit-something' kind of angry, but his own personal 'you-concerned-me-and-now-I'm-angry' angry. There was even a bit of disappointment and betrayal there too, which bit Peter more than anything else. He paused, open-mouthed, struggling for words. They seemed to catch in his throat.

"I...didn't want to bother you," he said lamely after a moment, going to wipe his eyes for the second time.

"Bother me? I would have been a lot more bothered if you'd ended up dying because you kept this from me, Peter. What's it going to take for you to understand that you're no trouble?"

Peter bit down on his lip, hard, hating the way that the conversation was going. Why couldn't this just be easy? Why couldn't Tony have just nodded calmly and asked him to continue what he was saying like his aunt and uncle would have...no, don't think like that. Peter winced at his own thoughts and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying his best to placate the situation, to find a sensible solution which would calm both parties.

"It was harder than just telling you, Tony," he eventually said, his voice all shaky and weak. "I-It was...it wasn't a normal spider bite. I knew that straight away. And just when I was gonna tell you I-I thought...I wondered what you'd say, and whether you'd be u-upset. Because of what it did to m-me,"

His heart, already pounding rapidly, beat at an even faster pace. Anticipation was building in his chest with every second that passed. Peter could feel a layer of nervous sweat coating his forehead, pooling in his clammy palms, which he wrung nervously at his sides. Tony's eyes were flickering all over his face, and Peter could see that he was trying to remain calm - which he didn't do for many other people. But then, not many people were able to panic him like this, either. Peter wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or bad thing.

"What did it do?" Tony asked quietly.

Here it goes, Peter thought, closing his eyes. He felt like he was going to be sick. No, he would be sick, but he had to hold it in. Get it over with. Get it over with!

"Genetic modification, I think," he whispered. "I-I can...do things, now,"

"...Like what?" Tony sounded a little uncertain. Peter had been expecting that much, at least. He knew he'd have to prove that he actually had abilities.

"I r-researched spiders after I started noticing the change," he said. "Some of their abilities kinda...match up. For example s-spiders are very strong. A lot of species have good senses, like heightened scent and vision. Some c-can jump really high, and obviously they c-can climb up different surfaces and stuff,"

"Peter...what relevance does that have? I just want to know about you, kiddo," Tony sounded so painfully insistent and worried, Peter's chest actually hurt. He had no doubt that Tony was already piecing together what Peter was telling him, but he probably didn't want to...believe it. Peter didn't want to either.

Unfortunately, there was no way to reverse what had happened (Peter couldn't find a way to reverse it, anyway). Peter had gotten this far into revealing everything; there was no point in abandoning his quest now. And so, Peter spun on his heel suddenly and hurried over to his desk, grabbing the crowbar he'd robbed from the workshop earlier that day for this very purpose. He carried it back to a very startled Tony, pressing it into the billionaire's hands. "Peter, what-?" Tony began.

"Try to bend it," Peter ordered, uncharacteristically quiet and sheepish. He focused his gaze on the floor.

Peter could sense Tony's eyebrows flying to his hairline. "Peter, I don't know what-,"

"Try to bend it," Peter repeated. "Please," he added. "To prove it's solid and stuff,"

Apparently recognising that Peter wasn't going to budge on this, Tony huffed in frustration and held tightly to the crowbar. His arms tensed and muscles coiled as he tried to bend the solid metal as ordered - releasing a breath a few moments later and relaxing his grip. "Solid," he confirmed impatiently, going to discard it on the bed next to him when he paused. His thinking face appeared, and his frown returned, directed at Peter. Tony turned and deliberately passed the crowbar back to Peter instead. "Now...what?" he asked. Oh yeah, thought Peter. He's definitely pieced it together.

Peter was sure that the tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a butter knife. He gulped, holding the crowbar on his palms, trying to ignore how sweaty and sick and close-to-tears he felt.

"Watch," he said simply. Readjusting his grip, Peter bent the tool easily to a 90 degree angle. It felt to him as easy as bending a plastic fork. He held it up, showing it to Tony. A weak, "Surprise?" fell from his lips before he could stop it.

Tony blinked once. Twice. He reached for the crowbar again and tried to bend it once more himself. It didn't budge. Tony looked back at Peter. He blinked once. Twice. Three times. With each blink, his eyes grew wider. His mouth opened a little wider. He was pale.

"What," he eventually croaked. "The fuck? The fuck did Oscorp do to you Peter?"

"It wasn't on purpose," Peter said, his voice coming out as a high-pitched keening. More tears escaped from his eyes. "N-No one m-made me...I didn't m -mean to T-Tony, I promise! I-I didn't want to g-get s-s-super strength or anything, I-I swear! I w-wanted to tell you b-b-but I was scared a-and-,"

And then Peter was crying. Tony cursed and pulled him close, wrapping him in a hug. Peter curled into him with pathetic eagerness, clutching to the dirty, oil-scented shirt and hiding his face in the billionaire's shoulder, trembling and whimpering like a needy baby. "Hush," he heard over him, one arm rubbing his back, the other smoothing back his hair. "Hush, Petey, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. We'll sort it out, okay?"

"Y-You can't reverse i-i-it!" Peter cried. "I-I tested m-my b-b-blood in the l-lab. The spiders D-DNA merged w-with m-mine! I c-cant - it's not - T-Tony, please don't h-hate me..."

"Hey," Tony pushed him back suddenly, forcing Peter to meet his eyes. "Don't say that, okay? A little bit of alternated DNA and super strength isn't going to make me hate you. I'm upset that you never told me sooner but it's okay. You hear me, Peter Parker? It's okay, all of it. You're probably in the best place possible to suddenly gain super strength-,"

"I-It's not just strength," Peter found himself hiccuping, stepping away from Tony. He stepped back, then reached for the crowbar. Holding it in his fist, Peter then let go of the tool with all but one finger. The bent crowbar hung from there, clinging to his skin to demonstrate his sticky-ability (he'd yet to dub it something sensible). Maybe later he'd show Tony how he could climb walls, but not now. The man looked shocked enough.

"Anything else?" Tony asked, tugging experimentally at the crowbar, seeing it remain firmly tacked to Peter's finger. Peter willed the crowbar to be dropped, throwing it back on to the bed. He nodded and fiddled with his shirt anxiously.

"Uh-huh. E-Enhanced senses. Someone's cooking pizza three floors d-down,"

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Tony called.

"He's right, boss," the AI confirmed. "One of the R&D employees. Peter did not ask for this information prior to your arrival,"

"I didn't think he had," said Tony, looking back at Peter. There was something else in his expression now. Something different. "You can smell something three storeys away?"

"Well, kinda, I-I guess. The window's a-are open," Peter shrugged.

"Is that all?" Tony pressed. Peter realised that he was starting to look quite calm now - he probably already had about a million plans in mind, piecing each of them together and determining which would be best for them. Best for Peter. If anyone were to know how to make this better (even though it didn't really need to get better, just more...bearable), it was Tony.

"I guess?" Peter said awkwardly. "I-I think I'm more flexible and acrobatic now. And m-my reflexes are good. But I've not really tested them yet,"

That was a small lie. Peter had landed four back-flips earlier that day at school during gym, when a dodgeball had been violently hurtled his way and he'd reacted instinctively. He'd spent the rest of that afternoon convincing his teacher and classmates that he'd always taken part in gymnastics (which later added to some new taunts) and blushing furiously. It had also been what had pushed Peter to tell Tony about everything. He'd need back-up and support if anything weird ever happened again, and who better than Tony Stark to provide that?

(Well, there were probably a million and one people better than Tony to defend him if he ever did anything odd - but that was besides the point).

"Okay," said Tony, squeezing Peter's shoulders lightly. "Well...it's unexpected, Pete, but we're going to get by with it. Alright?"

"Uh-huh," nodded Peter, feeling more relaxed by the moment. He wiped his nose with his sleeve, feeling better after the hug.

"I'm not upset that you're suddenly...well, a mutant, I guess, except you're not. You're genetically modified. But let's just say you're a mutant for simplicity's sake. That's okay,"

"Uh-huh," Peter said, shoulders drooping with relief. Tony didn't seem mad anymore-

"However,"

Peter felt his eyes widen slightly and he gulped, wringing his hands nervously.

"I can't deny that I'm a little disappointed, Peter - man, I can't believe I'm actually saying that. And I'm angry. That Oscorp trip was four weeks ago. Four weeks. This conversation is four weeks late. Did you think I'd yell at you?"

Yes, Peter thought. "N-No-," he stuttered weakly.

"Did you think I'd be upset? Kick you out? Hate you?"

Yes, yes and yes. Peter gulped and said nothing, staring up at Tony worriedly. He should have known he'd gotten away with it all probably too easily. This was life-changing, after all, just as he'd said. Of course Tony was going to have something to say about it. Now...well, Peter was starting to regret his life decisions. Again.

"Don't give me that look," Tony snapped, and Peter instinctively winced. "Hey, you know its not fair - giving me the puppy-eyes so I won't chew you out for keeping such a big secret. Well guess what, spidey, I can be a parent when I want to,"

"S-Spidey?" Peter spluttered. Tony waved him off.

"I feel like I should punish you for being so stupid, however then you'd be confined to your room and I need you to keep me company in the workshop whilst I'm upgrading the suit's thrusters. So, I'll...think of an alternative eventually," Tony waved a hand.

"Okay," nodded Peter, desperate to move past the subject of punishment. He bit his lip and shifted nervously in front of Tony, scrambling for something to say. "So...what n-now?"

"Now," Tony said, pushing himself to his feet. "We go down to the workshops so I can show off what I've been doing. And scan a sample of your blood,"

"That's it?" Peter blinked. He'd expected...more. Lots of tests, fretting, questioning. Tony suddenly seemed quite calm and normal again, as though the revelation about Peter hadn't effected him long-term t all. Peter was unsure whether to be relieved or worried by the easy resolution they'd come to. What if Tony was just waiting until later to ground Peter and confine him to the medbay for a series of medical studies and such?

"Don't look so worried," Peter felt a tingle at the back of his head, warning him of Tony's arm moving towards him. He chose not to move out of its way, letting the billionare tug him against his side and tug him messily from the room. "We'll figure this out, like I said,"

"I-I just thought-," Peter tried to say.

"That I'd be more upset? I'm no drama queen. And I also don't want to sound anymore like my father than I have already today. So you'll have a few days to prepare yourself for that conversation. Just think - you're lucky that it's me and not, I dunno, Rhodey, you're dealing with,"

Peter snorted quietly at the thought. "Uh-huh," He saw Tony's point. He was glad his guardian was so...chill, most of the time. Rhodey was another case. So was Happy. He paused all of a sudden, looking up at Tony as they stepped into the elevator beyond his room, their destination being the workshop. "I think I know how to make it up to you," he said. He finally sounded not-upset or worried.

Tony hummed in acknowledgement, still casually holding Peter against his side.

"When are Happy and Rhodey next going to be here? At the same time, I mean,"

"Whenever I say that I want them here," replied Tony. A sly grin crept up on to his face, matching the one on Peter's own face. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Probabbly. Y'know I sat on the ceiling yesterday. It was weird,"

"Huh, that ability works through your clothes? Interesting. Do you happen to produce your own web? Y'know, like an actual spider?"

"Nope. That'd be gross. But I've been researching a formula to make synthetic web. F.R.I.D.A.Y. can pull up the files when we get to the workshop, right F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"I can," F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirmed.

Tony clapped Peter's shoulder, grinning as the elevator slid open, revealing to them their favourite room: the workshop. Peter still remembered the first time he'd ever seen the workshop - he'd struggled to hold in tears, he'd been so excited and overwhelmed. It still didn't fail to lift his mood whenever he entered.

"C'mon. Let's go make you some freaky spidery stuff," Tony said, leading Peter forwards. Peter eagerly allowed himself to be led forwards, and launched into an explanation of what he'd researched so far concerning synthetic web fluid. Tony easily offered input and advice, smiling again.

Peter felt a lot better now, his chest light and his eyes swollen but free of tears. He almost wondered why he'd been so worried in the first place. If there was anyone in the world best to have as a guardian when you found yourself suddenly wielding spider-like abilities - it was Iron Man.

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it. I'm debating whether or not to write anymore of these - little one-shots looking into the lives of Tony and a young Peter Parker who's living with him (I don't have much of a backstory yet, this was kind of a spontaneous piece of writing). If anyone has any recommendations feel free to find me on Tumblr.
> 
> Thanks again to starkquill trash (izzybelw) for the name. Seriously, I love it.
> 
> Anyways, hope that everyone enjoyed this! More will come soon, I hope, though heads-up that it could be a while. We'll see how much time I have amongst my holidays and attempts at getting a job. Thank you!!


End file.
